’ ‘Yes, but I have not gone,’ Melusine said impatiently. "Affairs are not normal in Canton at present. And I think also that Gosse—I mean that one who calls himself Valade—stole it. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. Is that it? I thought this very pretty. " And she flung herself between them. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she.
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