“Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived.
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