She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. ‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. She was bathed in turbid water that had already been used. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. You are wholly in my power.
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