"Has he escaped?" asked the thief-taker, faintly. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. She had finally managed to start breaking him down. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty.
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