’ Melusine sobered, sitting down again. "You mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably.
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