“If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. ’ ‘Pah!’ rejoined Melusine, apparently unconscious of echoing him. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris.
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