’ ‘But, sister, I—’ ‘Get along!’ Melusine gave Jack a smile as he cast a worried look at her, and nodded dismissal. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. I love my husband. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. He had to know the truth, Melusine.
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