I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. I did so. . ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. Vorsack looked pale and pink. Besides, I acted for others, and not for myself. He was bewildered.
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