Melusine came in, picked up the lantern, and heard the library door bang open just as the panel clicked closed behind her. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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