‘No, Melusine. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. It is so that I may marry an Englishman. They don’t now. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t.
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