“TROUSERS!” she whispered. ’ ‘But you do not make love,’ Melusine pointed out. I don’t think you understand. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. Surely he was imagining this picture. We tolerate you for your genius, that's a fact. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool.
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