’ Melusine sank against the wall of the corridor, closing her eyes. “Yes, but maybe later. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense.
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