Rebellious and resentful, Melusine decided there and then that she would do exactly that, come what may. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. I could not become an Oracle. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God.
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