’ Melusine jumped up, full of new hope, all the earlier clouds vanishing from her horizon. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. And what's more, I promise to abide by his decision.
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