‘Here were you patiently waiting, without uttering one word of complaint the entire time, which of course you never do, being yourself a female altogether of a disposition extremely sweet and charming without the least vestige of a temper—’ ‘Gérard,’ Melusine uttered on a warning note, desperately trying to control the quiver at her lip. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. She might even forgive him.
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