He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. ‘Not but what it was near that before Jarvis died. They were really very fine and abundant, with a blaze of perennial sunflowers behind them. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. At times he was brilliant and masterful, talked round and over every one, and would have been domineering if he had not been extraordinarily kindly; at times he was almost monosyllabic, and defeated Miss Garvice’s most skilful attempts to draw him out.
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