We close the chapter. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. "Thames, this is no forgery. “So is Mr.
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