’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. The Well Hole. There was so much to see, so much to do, that he became what he had once been normally, a lovable boy.
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