Melusine approached with caution and sat warily at one end, looking up at him expectantly. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. Wood turned to look at him. “Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. "I understand," she said. I want to tell every one. And Suzanne, even that she has behaved to me not at all like a mother, would also not have said. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write.
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