They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. “You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said. But probably not the truth. Melusine, intent on the luckless Kimble, did not care. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape.
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