’ Melusine took refuge in defiance. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Like the flaws of an old marble. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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