Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. She was struck by a change in his appearance.
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