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Her mouth at half-cock, Melusine stood there staring at him. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. “There’s endless reasons, no doubt, why we shouldn’t,” he said. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn.
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