You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. “Alice—Alice gone dotty, and all over kids. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. Why are you doing all this?’ To his surprise, Melusine relaxed back, emitting a laugh that sounded perfectly genuine. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls.
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