He was painfully in earnest, too. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry. ’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. . .
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