The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. “We’re going to be found out someday. “Well,” she admitted. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. ’ ‘Very well, Melusine, you win,’ Gerald said unguardedly, and dug his hand into his pocket.
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