The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. You know the sort of thing. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. Earles answered, glibly.
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