She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl.
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