One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. ’ Melusine hesitated. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. He was suddenly calm. ” “I like Constance very much.
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