It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. ’ But the nun’s eyes had caught Gerald behind and she took instant umbrage. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. ‘Gad, what a mess!’ Gerald pulled free, and Melusine broke back, staring at him. I knew it.
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