‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful. . ‘Never mind that now. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying.
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