She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. And experience was slow in coming. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. "And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. You have said a thousand times that there was no shame in you.
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