‘Fiddle, Gerald. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. The lady, who was indeed stunning, Gerald suddenly realised, said never a word. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one.
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