It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Until this instant, he discovered, he had thought of Melusine’s plan only in a nebulous fashion, a naïve girl’s dream. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals.
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