But in the early days of her abduction, she did not allow him to touch her. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. "Here's the door. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. I once saw a man die after collapsing that way. He did not particularly care.
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