You do not know him. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace.
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