It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. . ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. But it was extraordinary what seemingly irrelevant things could restore her to the thought of Capes again. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother.
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