The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me. She said that your mother was only fifteen when she went to live with them. The life of a girl presented itself to her as something happy and heedless and unthinking, yet really guided and controlled by others, and going on amidst unsuspected screens and concealments. 9. ’ ‘But why, Marthe,’ asked Melusine, as she walked into the house.
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