‘French? But what else?’ ‘I do not like Frenchmen,’ Melusine snapped. And a right set-to there were betwixt him and Mr Jarvis, I can tell you. "You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity.
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