‘Not kill me, I mean. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. ‘Come,’ she called. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. “Sold again,” she remarked.
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