The thing is, Miss Charvill —’ ‘He told you my name?’ cut in Melusine, surprised. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Not so Gosse. That's a queer yarn. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground.
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