She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. The image did not move. ‘But can you? You don’t know Melusine for Mary Remenham’s daughter, any more than I do. She unlaced his pants and slid them down his hips, examining him as he stood before her naked. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down.
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