Jonathan shook his head. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. ” “You have not told me yet,” Annabel said, “how it is that you have dared to personate me. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
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