She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. Kneebone nodded. She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning. She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”.
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