He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as informed as they would wish to be. That wasn’t even the worst thing. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. When he had finished he took up the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne. It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon.
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