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8. But it is my fault. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging.
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