He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. Like a petulant child he snapped. You know, Melusine. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. I shouldn't care to express an opinion.
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