‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. The last observation, however, caught the attention of the carpenter's wife. Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern.
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