She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. “There have been other times,” he said a little sadly. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. . It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel.
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