Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Melusine cursed herself for his injury. She felt sickeningly empty.
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