” There was a moment’s silence. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. ‘How is your plan now, mon brave?’ Melusine taunted. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. ‘Why did he make me French, Marthe? Why did he give me this name of Melusine, and say I am born of Suzanne Valade?’ Martha looked at her, but her lips remained firmly closed.
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