It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. Drummond had made an abominable mistake. Or appeared to do so. Gosse was backing towards the table. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. Softly she rose to her feet.
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