I guess. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. After a while he spoke again. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. ” “Then may I come to the study to-night—after dinner?” “I’m—BUSY!” “It’s important.
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