Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. Melusine approached with caution and sat warily at one end, looking up at him expectantly. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition.
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