After all—’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to see him,’ Melusine protested. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Sheppard. I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. ’ Your name alone would fill any music hall in London.
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