‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. “I cannot say more. ‘What was Leonardo to you?’ Melusine was instantly on the defensive. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. ’ She turned her head, eyes blazing. Spurling had retired for the night.
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