‘Lucy, do not say that you have told everyone all that I have done?’ ‘Well, yes, but—’ Consternation filled Melusine’s breast. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. He could not doubt it. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. Even the basest objects sold in the 24 roadside shops were beautiful in some way. .
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