‘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. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. She responded with an unfaltering appearance of insensibility, and never as a young and beautiful woman conscious of sex; always in the character of an intelligent girl student. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink.
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