She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ‘Now then, my girl, why the long face?’ Melusine had no hesitation in placing her trouble before her old nurse, for it was Martha who had made her aware of her true history. ‘Perhaps she don’t understand English,’ suggested Roding. Also he is ugly.
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