Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. He looked at his friend. ’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek.
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