As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers.
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