“We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart.
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