"You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. Go in, go in, Melusine prayed, hoping desperately that he would not change his mind and take another route. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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