She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. ‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. ‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. He groped her buttocks.
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