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Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. I’m not a lovesick boy. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. A fortnight passed, then a month.

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