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Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. She, however, had no idea of doing anything of the sort. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. I’m behaving shockingly, I know. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone.
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