The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. ‘You make a game with me, I think. “Why not?” he exclaimed. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey.
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