She wished she had not stood up. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. Chapter Eleven Melusine’s limbs nearly gave way beneath her.
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