She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. Everything in the world to live for!—fame that he could not reap, love that he must not take! What was all this pother about hell as a future state? By and by things began to stir on the table: little invisible things. She felt the softest touch caress her cheek, and a wave of tenderness engulfed Melusine.
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