C. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Burn your palette and your easel. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after all. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child.
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