Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. As a dog eats grass. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. ‘Suzanne, if I may say, had also not the choice. Not much. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door.
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