She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. The worst was over now. Melusine circled her adversary only far enough to give herself the aisle between the pews behind. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped.
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