Folks don’t like ’em. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. You seemed complete—without that. ‘No need to upset yourself. My father died a year ago, by the way. ’ Melusine swung away and moved to stare dully out of the window of the little chapel vestry onto the mews outside.
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