She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. "I think you're all bewitched," she cried. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. "It's like enough, I dare say," rejoined Sheppard. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded.
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