“Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity. His eyes swept down and Melusine felt the quiver at her lips where he gazed. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful.
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