’ ‘What?’ Hilary glanced from Gerald to Melusine, and coloured up. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. ‘Do not smile at me and try to make me not angry any more,’ Melusine warned, ‘for I am very angry indeed with you. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. She let out a wail. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray.
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