Gosse sneered. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. But he was not a father one could make much of. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
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