Sheppard wildly. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. A queer nut. ’ Melusine sank against the wall of the corridor, closing her eyes.
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