‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. “I have the right to be here. ” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. ‘She would say, espéce de diable, this Melusine. All the influences about her worked with her own predisposition and against all the traditions of her home and upbringing to deal with the facts of life in an unabashed manner. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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