She attacked his hair resolutely. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. ‘I have justice. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms.
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