And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb.
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