"Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. Wild in his own domain.
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