" "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. ‘I’ll send one of my men to see you here this very evening. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. “You need a reason.
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