‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. " "Oh. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. "Adieu, my worthy uncle. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. You go cheer him up. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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