Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. ‘Well then, Melusine,’ he said calmly, ‘it seems as if we must get you your dowry willy-nilly. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. " "Never!" rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardour,—"never, till I receive from your own lips the answer which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable of mankind.
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