Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. ‘Major, sir!’ The major appeared so swiftly that Melusine was instantly suspicious. Hanging about! And they start thinking and asking questions, and begin to be neither one thing nor the other. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax.
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