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Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘Melusine. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. ’ Melusine gave it up. She felt much better. He was so seldom wrong. God must love me, for he has guided me here.
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