‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did. The two went upstairs to Michelle's bedroom. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky.
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