There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself.
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