She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. "Choose, Jack. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there.
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