And I want you for myself—for my wife. ’ ‘Well, I do now,’ Lucilla said firmly, and turned back to Melusine. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. ‘Poor things. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. It was clear it must be to-morrow.
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