’ ‘But what age are you? Do you not require an heir?’ Melusine asked, her tone shocked. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. ” He recovered himself. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark.
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