She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. ’ ‘Well, I do now,’ Lucilla said firmly, and turned back to Melusine. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. That'll tune me up.
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