Then, seeing Melusine’s feathered beaver had fallen to the floor, picked that up for her. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Lucy entered the room.
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