She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. He hated the taste of it. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. Before I met you I never met any one whom I felt I could love, but you have discovered depths in my own nature I had scarcely suspected.
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