‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where they had no chance of getting away. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed.
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