Thames returned no answer. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. “You are an impostor. Pause. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. CHAPTER XXVIII.
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