The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Escape was now impossible. Wood fancied he recognised. ’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language. She taught me how to crochet and cross stitch. Mike knocked on the door.
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