” “But Hainault—was—a pal. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. ‘How is your plan now, mon brave?’ Melusine taunted. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white.
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