’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. I did not reckon upon—him. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. “I’m rather a persistent person.
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