Spurlock mused over the previous night. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet.
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