Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. ‘You heard Gosse—I mean, the man you know as Valade?’ ‘Clear as day, miss,’ he uttered. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. “Believe what, Michelle?” Lucy asked.
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