She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. ‘Parbleu, the bullet is still inside you,’ Melusine guessed, remembering how the Mother Abbess had diagnosed Leonardo’s suffering when he had first come to the convent. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut.
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