Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected.
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