His face clouded with anger. “But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek. And you, Mademoiselle Melusine, will support this claim.
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