Lucy entered and Mike followed. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone.
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