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“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. ’ Melusine took refuge in defiance. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Mr. She had never understood how much knowledge had been kept from her because she was a woman and even began to doubt the methods of the Church, something she never would have dared before. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love.
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