Once he chuckled aloud. ’ There was sense in what she said, Melusine was obliged to concede. Wood's," said the latter, "since I find him at his own gate. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. We are in love. CHAPTER IV.
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