If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes.
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