The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. The Mohocks XII. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. I would like you to believe that the decision I have arrived at—to stay away—is wholly and entirely to save you pain. Least of all myself.
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