Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters.
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