At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. ‘I know, Melusine. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips.
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