ToC Saint Giles's Round-house was an old detached fabric, standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. He will be sorry when he knows who I am,’ decided Melusine with satisfaction. “Is it your maid?” he asked. ” “Wait,” she said.
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