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He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. 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. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. mm. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. For awhile he watched the revolving light on Copeley's. ’ ‘Success?’ Her eyes narrowed.

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