‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. She had omitted that the flu had been called the Black Death and that it was a dead child that had been inside that womb, so many hundreds of years ago. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. “It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. I never want you to be ashamed of me.
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