She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. I'm about to leave this country for ever. What had been happening all this time? ‘Do you tell me he has not again left his apartment?’ ‘Only to go to some party or other Monday night,’ Kimble said. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn.
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