But his grief was of short duration. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. ‘Your niece, ma’am. This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him. ’ Melusine shrugged. But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. ‘I want a word with you, my lad.
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