Melusine’s eyes blazed into his. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. "Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place.
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