’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. And talking of every conceivable thing. Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief.
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