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Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. Mirrors.
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