” She said. “In self-defence I had to,” she answered. ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower.
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