Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue.
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