Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. Anna left the room on tiptoe.
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