He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. Your old rooms are there, if you choose. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. I don’t mind it. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him.
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