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’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. He was mad. - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
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