I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. Melusine—the real Melusine—evidently did not see him immediately, for her attention was on her descent from the high vehicle. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing.
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