“I don’t believe there is one. I packed them with the other few things I owned. ’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. "This is your work," said the knight, sternly.
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