It feels like it. ’ He nodded in the direction of her pistol. And we won’t make it so. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. ’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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