His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. He did not speak for a moment. “I will not be drawn into a conversation with Mr.
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