’ Mischief overtook Melusine. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. ” She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again.
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