’ ‘Melusine, did you say?’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. She studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment.
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