The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. ‘More nor that. ’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. This helped to restore Ann Veronica’s self-command. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you.
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