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“Yes. She had never had a real doll. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. It was locked.

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