‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. I let him take me to the English Embassy, and we went through some sort of a ceremony. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered.
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