"There's the exact expression I want. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. ‘Oh, peste. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters.
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