Occasionally he relit his pipe. I don’t think of you as a kid. ’ Gerald did not speak, but there was a look in his face that made Melusine glad she had at last had the courage to confide in him. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations.
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