” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. Why are you doing all this?’ To his surprise, Melusine relaxed back, emitting a laugh that sounded perfectly genuine. Nobody could possibly find him now. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen.
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