There was a stain of wine upon her dress. She would stare if she knew the full sum of Melusine’s activities. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. She had a warm, fun-loving personality, and an unflattering disrespect for her future husband’s authority. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude.
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