’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. “You are an impostor. ‘Not another caller will I receive this day. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient.
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