She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. “It couldn’t be. The last few months had not dealt kindly with Mr. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. ” Anna promptly alighted with the letter in her hand.
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