But oh, how weary I am! I know. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. Melusine was loath to admit how much more lonely since Gerald chose not to visit her. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone.
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