He took her to Burger King, still amused by her taste in food. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. With delicate touch he rescued all that was possible of them, and made a careful little parcel. She made an abrupt personal appeal. And then you go—and half throttle me. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it.
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