‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. The ragged edge. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please.
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