Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. What a treat to see all the old tabbies taken at fault for once!’ ‘You are a dreadful child,’ scolded Mrs Sindlesham, with which Melusine could not but agree, despite the dimple rioting in her great-aunt’s cheek. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. ’ Melusine turned her head.
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