Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. "Oh, yes!—for always!" He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in this attitude they remained for some time. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring.
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