He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. ‘So now you may safely cease your roundaboutation, and tell me what took you to Remenham House. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. ‘I have told you I will take Jacques. “Because I hate you!” She spat.
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