In a flash, Melusine had jumped forward and clamped it to the floor with one booted foot. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. Both the fugitive and his chasers embarked on the Thames. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly.
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