Though they do, in secret, I believe. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. ’ ‘But it’s my affair, Melusine. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire.
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