Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. With thinly veiled glee, Michelle described a rumor she had heard about John at a recent party. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. "I don't see why I should be obliged to pay for doing my duty.
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