His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. ‘What’s wrong, miss? Ain’t I done right?’ Melusine’s mind was reeling, but she reached out and seized his wrist.
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