He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. ‘A word, if you please, my friend.
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