"You frighten the cull out of his senses. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. ’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage.
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