I had been about as foolish and selfish as a girl could be. After all—’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to see him,’ Melusine protested. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies.
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