Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. But you must tell her. I loved her so much.
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