Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. Get it off your soul. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed. I almost wish we hadn't come. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl. “Oh, that. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?” There was a brief silence.
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