He was painfully in earnest, too. Lord above, had they wounded each other? But Melusine’s need was paramount with Gerald and he tried to shake off her clinging fingers. After the dance, they went to a party. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes.
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