I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. ‘And me—’ ‘You, mademoiselle, are more trouble than you’re worth, and I’ll thank you to —’ ‘Hilary, don’t,’ said Lucy, and Melusine’s rising temper cooled a little.
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