The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. "To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly.
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