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‘I’ll send one of my men to see you here this very evening. Pause. “Is it your maid?” he asked. Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. She was greatly heartened by doing this. “I can’t endure it,” she said. ‘Do you at least know how he came to be in a position to cheat Miss Charvill, and to pass off his wife in her place?’ ‘In her place?’ There was no mistaking the boy’s ignorance of this part of the tale. Melusine cast one swift glance at it, and her eyes, flashing magnificently, came back to his face. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. “You shall,” she said.

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