Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. ’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. He went to the door. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue.
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