The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. "I wish to overtake Lady Trafford. So I asks the maid a few questions like, and it seems it ain’t Mister Charvill they’re going to visit again, but General Charvill. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. It has all been a mistake. ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. They've paid for their lodging. Something softened in Melusine’s chest.
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