You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. I quickly ingratiated myself to Gianfrancesco, playing on his insecurities, drawing from his need for more and more power. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. “You, too,” he said abruptly. She even had books by H. ’ ‘Because you are a pig!’ retorted Melusine hotly.
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