Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. ’ ‘In this case, I do not at all wish to marry you,’ Melusine threw at him furiously. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. You truly are your mother’s, Lucia.
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