58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. You are all the beauty in the world. Now I ain’t saying as how that there Pottiswick—’ ‘How you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently.
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