Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. ’ ‘Marry you!’ He shot off the desk, such horror in his face that Melusine felt a little irritated. Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. She had noticed a twenty year pattern emerging, and funny how opportunity seemed to strike just when she was getting truly anxious. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. She chose to hold her nose.
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