To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. The gong will go at seven-thirty. ’ About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock. “Never heard anything of it. It was a pity people had to eat food. ” She set the letter down, and drew from her pocket another with a foreign post mark which had come the day before. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs.
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