You have neither reason nor logic. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. He never felt any need to explain himself. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. It was a letter. She was already a little prepared by her discursive reading and discussion under the Widgett influence for ideas and “movements,” though temperamentally perhaps she was rather disposed to resist and criticise than embrace them.
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