The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. No doubt that was due to his helplessness. They were silent for a time. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. get in.
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