Mr. "Where are you going?" she asked. But her words were not addressed to Melusine. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. “That is very nice of you,” she said. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. ’ ‘Lady Bicknacre too,’ said Lucilla, a delight in her voice that grated on Melusine. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind.
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