‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. He leaned forward to embrace her. Not a breath was drawn. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman.
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