‘To find what?’ demanded Gerald. She rapped again, louder. Balked, Melusine halted. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “Lord!” she said. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch.
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