The Well Hole. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. But I'll call a doctor, since you order it. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again.
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