I followed you in. Melusine cursed herself for his injury. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. She could not say a word, much less move. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. He whispered in her ear.
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