’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr.
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