Plote was sleeping or deaf. And Rollo, who had been waiting for some encouraging sound, presented himself at the doorway. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. “Yes,” she said at last, “it is firm and affectionate. And so —’ ‘And so she was able to become my—’ Melusine did not say it, for wet-nurse no longer seemed appropriate. “Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am.
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