’ Melusine remembered a thin man of sour aspect, living—like her father and his wife Suzanne—off the vicomte’s bounty. She looked at him gravely and squinted. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. ’ ‘Are you off your head? Think I don’t know you’re up to some mischief or other?’ Melusine feigned innocence. Then he sensed the trap. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure.
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