Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her. ’ Melusine knew it to be true.
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