’ A multitude of changes flitted across Melusine’s features as she stood there for a space, unusually silent. 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. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. Wild. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.
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