It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. "The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. Lord above, had they wounded each other? But Melusine’s need was paramount with Gerald and he tried to shake off her clinging fingers. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. ’ Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet.
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