The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. " "I can't. “I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Melusine came in, picked up the lantern, and heard the library door bang open just as the panel clicked closed behind her. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers.
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