At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ’ Melusine could not regard this view with anything but scepticism. \" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry.
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