On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. Nevertheless, she was no fool, and she knew that they could easily break loose and cause her to fall. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. “You poor little girl!” he cried. There were two sisters, you know.
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