” The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and hesitated. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. ’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way.
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