That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. ‘Melusine was making herself mistress of them when we met. I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. But shortly this movement ceased. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire.
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