The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. “An annuity—a sum of money paid to you yearly or quarterly through my solicitors, and which you can consider as a gift from your sister. While she worked, Melusine worried over the problem of getting Jack home. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. But she felt his lax figure become rigid. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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