It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. There was—a service. “I do love you. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. He may not know you’re in England, but if he has the smallest knowledge of your character, he must surely be expecting you. ’ ‘Consider me warned,’ said Gerald solemnly.
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