‘Bête. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. . ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. Melusine was unable to repulse him—even had she tried.
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