In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. “It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. ’ Melusine swung away and moved to stare dully out of the window of the little chapel vestry onto the mews outside. Like the Valades, I imagine. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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