‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. Know that, don’t you?’ ‘Of course I know it,’ Lucy told him, and Melusine read the whisper in her mouth of those precious words, ‘I love you. Her anger died and she eyed him. I might have known it. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts … to love and to coddle lonely little girls.
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