The father was a madman. ‘Before she can think of marriage, Melusine must prove her identity. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. He shook his head. Her back stiffened. She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine.
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