Her little white hand stole across the table. “I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters. She always dawdled, so it was easy.
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