’ Melusine watched with a tightness in her chest as Captain Roding kept hold of Lucy’s hand, even as he turned back to Prudence. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own.
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