After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. She rolled to one side. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. I can't pump out all there is to these compositions. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation.
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