“That was a moment of madness,” she said. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. “Like a stab. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. She had learned this art in skirts, and knew well how not to be disadvantaged. It was some time later, after a series of these devastating assaults, that Melusine found herself seated on the sofa lately vacated by Lucilla and Captain Roding, cuddled firmly in the arms of a major of militia reduced quite to idiocy.
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