And so —’ ‘And so she was able to become my—’ Melusine did not say it, for wet-nurse no longer seemed appropriate. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me.
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