Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. ‘I trust you are cursing Valade, and not Melusine. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. . “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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