She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. Perhaps I am still mad. "I would treat him as you treated his father, Sir Rowland.
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