’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. Austin was dismissing a host of inquirers who had been attracted thither by the news,—for it had already been extensively noised abroad. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party. She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters.
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