She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. “None, I thank you,” he answered. ‘Can’t you see he is not a gentleman with whom one can argue?’ ‘You think so?’ Melusine said dangerously, and her eyes flashed as she swept about again and confronted her grandfather once more. Her little white hand stole across the table. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. You see me here, an admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my life.
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