She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife. “Well, hello there. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts.
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