Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. ’ There was no denial in Martha’s face, though Melusine longed to hear her words contradicted. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. “It’s my fault.
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