" "Oh!" exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands. He had chosen his time well. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. ’ She jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. ’ Melusine fought down the raw emotion that threatened to overwhelm her and drew a steadying breath. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand.
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