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’ Melusine nodded. “No, no,” she cried. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. I could not have spoken to her. And, lastly, there's Mr. . Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. He became a little less en garde.
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