She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. β Melusine turned her head. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. β βAnd for me,β Anna echoed. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. .
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