Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight. “Do all foster kids have the instinct?” Michelle asked naively. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. ‘Never mind that now. I am loved. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. ” She whispered to him.
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