She kissed him on the bridge of his nose. I don’t quite know why. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. I do not believe that there has ever lived a really great actress whose moral character from the ordinary point of view would bear inspection. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought.
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