Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. . Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone.
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