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‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind.
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