On the other hand the two young men who sat on either side of Anna were already throwing murderous glances at the newcomer. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. Go in, go in, Melusine prayed, hoping desperately that he would not change his mind and take another route.
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