Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. ‘I have said it is not stolen,’ snapped Melusine indignantly. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. ‘I have an arthritic complaint, which is why you find me retired from fashionable life. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone.
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