She looked at him mournfully. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. Or felt it. It would be the wrappered world almost at its best. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. . ” Their agreement so far seemed remarkable, and yet as a home-coming the thing was a little lacking in warmth. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it.
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