We WERE thieves. But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. They're gone into the next room. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle.
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