’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. She came originally of country stock, and had been virtually in sole charge of Melusine almost from the hour of her birth—a thankless task, as Melusine had heard her bemoan countless times, with the rider that she had carried it out with a conspicuous lack of success. The chair is in the veranda. “No,” she answered. Plain, wide-mouthed, freckled, and ugly, she was an instantly jealous creature, her saving grace that she took no pains to mask her extreme dislike 47 of petite, pretty girls. “Hand me the Jergens lotion, will you? How’d it go with John?” She asked. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that.
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