Chapter Eleven Melusine’s limbs nearly gave way beneath her. ” “Why not?” “Free woman—and equal. It had showed up at an auction at Sotheby’s after someone had sold it. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. Gwen made an inquiry, and, directed by Mrs.
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