And in this fact lay his danger. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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