’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters. She put her head out of the window. As Mrs. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. His literary instincts began to stir. "I can do without it," muttered Jack.
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