” “Why?” asked Hetty. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. No, I thank you. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him.
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