‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. Although Melusine had taken care to trouble herself about the hand she had cut, and was glad to find it healing very well. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. "Here's a cross-bite.
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