Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. “Good-looking rascal she met at Worthing. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Though he never seen so much of Miss Mary as I did. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. Instead, they appeared to be at the hygienic level of tramps’ lodging-houses. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance.
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