” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. There are way-stations—even terminals. . 225 “Sebastianus. ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. I want to leave Paris to-day—this very day.
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