The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. And not on Melusine’s account, but to see Prudence, who had no use for a cavalier. Probably hadn't. "He can't get out. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets.
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