The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. It was fastened inside. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. A deadlock. But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. But that explains everything. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. A curious silence ensued. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee.
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