“Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. "If I escape, I will reward you.
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