Mrs. His attention was focused on Melusine’s transfixed stare and he forgot to say any of the things he had planned to say. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. . ’ ‘Don’t need you to tell me that, Prudence Sindlesham,’ barked the old man, his glance snapping at her briefly, before resuming his study of Melusine, who, to Gerald’s intense admiration, was standing before him, glaring and stiff with defiance. ‘He don’t mean you no harm.
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