She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. “I suppose things have changed?” she said. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. You understand me, Charcoal. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans.
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