I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. “But for you Dad would never have let me marry Lescelles. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. ’ Tears sprang to Melusine’s own eyes, and she clasped the hand she held more tightly. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative.
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