It must be sent home this evening. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. That’s— that’s my private life.
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