‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She twisted her fingers tightly. Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. “Not at all. ‘No, but I seen the light, sir.
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