He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. “Before I heard much Wagnerian music I heard enthusiastic descriptions of it from a mistress I didn’t like at school. Her pulses began to race. I will tell you our plans on the way to the station. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room.
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