His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. ’ ‘You see,’ Melusine explained between mouthfuls of food, ‘poor Marthe had promised to my father that she will say nothing. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar.
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