‘It is that he needed me for his lie, no?’ Melusine said, striving to control the quiver in her voice. “He is not—I don’t like him. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. He stopped short with a little exclamation of surprise. ’ He smiled down at her.
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