‘Imbecile. ” “Did I?” she said. “What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. “My Mom was a good lady. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde.
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