“Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. ’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. “Who from?” She met his eye for a second and her heart failed her.
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