Kneebone, he took his departure. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. ’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe.
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