She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. But d—n him! let's talk o' something more agreeable. His eyes swept down and Melusine felt the quiver at her lips where he gazed.
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