Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance.
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