‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it.
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