Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. ’ ‘No, for that would have had to be in Melusine’s possession to start with. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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