The one I have is a duplicate. Is there any truth, do you suppose, in this rumoured marriage?” “I know nothing,” Courtlaw answered hurriedly. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again.
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