“You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. "To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. ’ ‘I do not think so,’ Melusine agreed, still puzzled. . She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. I didn't mean it. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered.
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