Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. “You may not leave. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue.
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