’ The one ray of light lifted Melusine’s gloom a little and she smiled. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter.
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