’ Melusine took refuge in defiance. She moaned, having failed in her mission to find her mother and her God. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief.
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