’ ‘Melusine!’ came sharply from the doorway. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. ’ Melusine looked resentfully at the pistol. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. " "But you can imagine it.
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