She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais.
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