” “I am rebuked,” she declared. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. But Melusine had overcome the weakness, calling the loss but a temporary setback. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table.
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