What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. The night was now profoundly dark. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. " "Conscious; well, that's good news. Manning central in her mind. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. ” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair.
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