’ ‘Sit down, Hilary,’ ordered Lucilla, and to Gerald’s amusement, her betrothed did so, perching on the desk close by and staring fixedly at the major. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Melusine’s heart ached for him, but she had to force him on.
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