Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. She caught at the idea. "How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. "Darrell's job was done early this morning," he said; "and if I'd attended to his advice, the packing-case would have been finished at the same time. She rolled to one side.
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