The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. Stanley poured wine.
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