Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. She had become much healthier, and she did not recoil when he kissed her bare neck as it elicited good feelings from all of the regions of her body. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Ovarian cancer. Then, seeing Melusine’s feathered beaver had fallen to the floor, picked that up for her. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke.
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