‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. It was explosive and gratifying. ‘Merci, dieu. . "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat.
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