‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. O'Higgins mounted the stairs, his step extraordinarily light for one so heavy.
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