‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. ‘Do not smile at me and try to make me not angry any more,’ Melusine warned, ‘for I am very angry indeed with you. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist.
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