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I was extremely subtle—in fact, as devious as Melusine. She could feel her face turning beet red. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. ’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed.
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