Her stifled misery had betrayed her. Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. ‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. . “If you speak—farewell.
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