But her heart kept on sinking. She thrashed and screamed as he wrestled her back towards the bed. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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