” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. 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. ‘It is that he needed me for his lie, no?’ Melusine said, striving to control the quiver in her voice. “You too sing?” he asked. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjEyOC4yMjkgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDExOjQ3OjI5IC0gMTYzNDY4NTgwNA==
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