’ ‘I spit on your plan,’ Melusine told him furiously. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. ’ Melusine found her tongue. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx.
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