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But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again. “Come this way,” he said. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. The Oriental waterfronts were rank with the stuff. And don't neglect my instructions this time.
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