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It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. That is very bad indeed.
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