“Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. But I waited in vain. ’ ‘Melusine,’ repeated the old lady. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk.
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