A paralyzing horror was upon her. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. ’ Melusine’s heart leapt, raced for a moment, and suddenly dropped again. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped. Pay fools with promises.
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