But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. He was so horny that he could probably make love to a tree.
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