“It’s a nice holiday. I don’t feel it. ’ ‘Bon,’ exclaimed Melusine, triumph soaring. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it.
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