‘Eh bien, does that mean that you will do it again?’ ‘Not if I can help it,’ Gerald uttered, alarmed. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake.
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