For that worthless father of yours—’ Melusine let go the hand only so that she might throw her own hands in the air. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. ‘Certainly you are imbecile.
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