She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. ’ Melusine hesitated.
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