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They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. ‘No!’ Melusine snapped as he tugged at the thing. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. Also she had tried him as a dragoman and as a gendarme, which seemed the most suitable of all to his severely handsome, immobile profile. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving.
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