“Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. ’ Melusine swung away and moved to stare dully out of the window of the little chapel vestry onto the mews outside. But it is my fault.
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