Lucia had never been so happy, so content. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind.
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