Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. Until this instant, he discovered, he had thought of Melusine’s plan only in a nebulous fashion, a naïve girl’s dream. CHAPTER XVIII. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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