’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. CHAPTER XII. ’ Tears sprang to Melusine’s own eyes, and she clasped the hand she held more tightly. An action which gave Gerald furiously to think. Well, this is OUR thing. I told him the truth. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning.
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