’ Emile’s eyes blazed. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. Mrs. ’ Melusine was beginning to fill with dread and a burgeoning of anger as the meaning behind his words began to penetrate. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by.
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