" "He couldn't help it, Ruth. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. His eyes were bright with the hunt. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. She paused. ‘Idiot. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. ’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet.
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