But whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock broke into saving laughter. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. “It was perhaps my fault. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices.
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