‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. “Excuse me a moment. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. ‘A thing Marthe told me of,’ Melusine answered, her attention on the garments that were still lying higgledy-piggledy, just as she had left them. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. “Hold on, she’s right here.
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