Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. "I've a good deal to do. Gerald closed the door and released Melusine, and then went to open the shutters on a window that faced the side of the house. What did you do when your father went on trips to other islands?" "Took off my shoes and stockings and played in the lagoon.
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