She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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