’ ‘Certainly he is not a friend,’ Melusine agreed, ‘but he has gone, after all. ’ ‘But he’s a major of militia, miss. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness.
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