CHAPTER X. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. ’ There was no denial in Martha’s face, though Melusine longed to hear her words contradicted. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. ‘She ought to be.
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