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. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. “I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern.
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