’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes. She located her foster family. And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness.
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