“You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. “Turned out to be an impostor, too. That's well. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way.
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