And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. “I wonder if I’ve been properly brought up. ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. Folks don’t like ’em. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley.
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