Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. As in a dream, Melusine saw her faithful footman struck, his headlong progress checked. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her.
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