His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. He savored the last solo, the coda. ‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her.
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