‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. Me, you may have. He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an attentive waiter.
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