All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. “You are quite right, I think. It is all very complex. .
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