’ About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. The mode of destruction makes no difference. That's the way it goes. "I'll tell you," answered Jonathan, sternly.
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