’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute. It is better to face the truth. M. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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