’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. Your aunt liked the pheasant. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. “But, dear, think! He is your father.
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