Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Let me keep you from that man’s clutches. White’s compliments.
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