It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. ‘And how do you propose to get in?’ ‘Scullery window. But Melusine had overcome the weakness, calling the loss but a temporary setback. I’d to go to Remenham House as well, and show Pottiswick your letter of authorisation.
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