‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. "Good night, Master. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him.
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