Always as black and bitter as gall. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. He tried to make love to me. “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said.
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