“A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. “I saw his face in a mirror.
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