For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. "Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. "I've known him all my life," replied the other.
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