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I hated the stuff. Surely Capes was different. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. He—wanted to marry me. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. “Go on!” she commanded. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face.
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