“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. ” The girl nodded. I'm as much astonished as you. "That's it!"—eagerly.
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