Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. For an instant, Melusine watched him go. It had been a trying day. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. Possessed of you, I shall have a treasure such as kings could not boast. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. ‘She has constituted herself leader of the émigrés here, and feels justifiably slighted by having taken the pretend Valades under her wing. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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