" It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. Whatever you need to do, it is your business. ” She controlled a sob. ” “It would suit me.
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