‘How is your plan now, mon brave?’ Melusine taunted. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again.
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