"What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled.
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