The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. You will be—my wife. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. ” He stared at a little eddy. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart. "Sorry you're obliged to keep your word. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly.
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