” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her. ’ Again, Melusine did not waste words. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them.
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