Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks. ’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines.
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