Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. ’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words.
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