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He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. Melusine cast one swift glance at it, and her eyes, flashing magnificently, came back to his face. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. Martin managed to catch her after class the next day. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. Gerald lifted an eyebrow.
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