‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. Greece was a different place.
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