She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. “For luck. This world over here! Everything's upsidedown or back-end-to. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult.
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