But Darrell averted his head. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ’ ‘I am going to England,’ Melusine stated flatly, ‘because there is no safety at the convent at Blaye. Don't feel fussed upon my account.
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