’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. She snatched about in her mind. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. "What is this?" she wanted to know. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod.
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