Something softened in Melusine’s chest. Not a scar but has its history. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. ’ ‘Melusine, did you say?’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed. There is no other way. ‘You will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. He returned the locket without comment.
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