There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up. While she worked, Melusine worried over the problem of getting Jack home.
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