And so Misther Wudd lives near the Black Lion, eh?" "He does," replied Thames. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. But also this must not go on. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. Still, I suppose Melusine can always sell the house. He kissed her at the door. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. . " There was another pause.
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