He did not stagger in the least. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. His eyes closed. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped.
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