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Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. You've caught the colour and the life. You promise me you’ll never grow old, you hear?” “I promise.
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