Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him. It was red and chapped. When she spoke, her lips twitched. Melusine sighed with frustration. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. The air was pungent and leaden.
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