And I heard ‘Alcide’ sing, and that little dance she did. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Melusine ran to catch at his arm. “It looks all right,” said Capes.
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