He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. We felt like thieves. ’ ‘Are you off your head? Think I don’t know you’re up to some mischief or other?’ Melusine feigned innocence. Let’s go up to my room.
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