‘But can you? You don’t know Melusine for Mary Remenham’s daughter, any more than I do. To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony.
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