Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Just me and another girl named Krista who turned eighteen and left right about when I got there. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. ‘Gad, what a mess!’ Gerald pulled free, and Melusine broke back, staring at him.
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