’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. You are the one person I can understand and feel—feel right with. A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth, tobacco and so forth. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent.
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