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She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. ‘Playing games to tease me, that’s all he can think of doing. CHAPTER XXIII.
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