Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. ‘A thing Marthe told me of,’ Melusine answered, her attention on the garments that were still lying higgledy-piggledy, just as she had left them. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced.
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