Hill again—alive. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. But today Melusine’s new-found knowledge put Martha at a disadvantage. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. " "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle.
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