His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. ’ ‘But why?’ asked Melusine, astonished, and somewhat overwhelmed by the other girl’s volubility. . He has three days to live. I like the way you shared it.
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