“What’s going on with you?” John asked inquisitively, looking down at her abdomen. Next instant, Melusine’s blade sank into Gosse’s flesh. His hot juices coursed into her in quick bursts. The only part of his otherwise-interesting countenance, to which one could decidedly object, was the mouth; a feature that, more than any other, is conceived to betray the animal propensities of the possessor. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness.
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