How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights. It was his heart. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity.
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