’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise. She felt sickeningly empty. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. It was the first expression of the mother's blood. “Be so good as to stand away from that door at once, sir,” Brendon ordered. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. He had to know the truth, Melusine.
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