’ ‘But he’s a major of militia, miss. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him. She loves you too well for that. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties.
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