His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. and Mrs. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. "I understand," she said. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose.
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