Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. Visiting? Dressed for it, certainly. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. It was decrepit and too large. Let me run you for six months. Unless they remind him now and then not to.
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