“When did you start?” She said between puffs. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. ’ That arrested her. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. It is really amusing.
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