She ignored it until it repeated itself. ‘Melusine!’ Distracted, Gosse blinked and his eyes flicked away from Melusine’s just as she flung the fullness of her gathered petticoats in the way of his blade. ‘We were wondering about that. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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