Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. Melusine tapped on it. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. He kissed her cheek. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me.
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