Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. It is repulsive. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. She was vaguely happy over this arrangement which put her in the wing across the middle hall, alone. They had as many designations as grades. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Wood, popping her head through the window. “I have had nothing since, and it seems a very long time. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. .
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