And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. Manning,” she said, “I warned you not to idealize me.
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