’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. She wanted to kiss his feet. She fought him with tooth and nail. First the passage to be negotiated. No matter what they do, always someone to bolster them up, to lend them money, and to coddle them. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips.
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