Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. He claimed me for his wife, and showed to every one a marriage certificate. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. We can’t.
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