The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths.
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