It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. She turned back into the hall. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. ’ ‘But why, Marthe,’ asked Melusine, as she walked into the house. She lied. But one must disguise oneself. They must see the prisoner at the hatch.
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