We can’t even protect them from themselves. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. Probably a sick man's whim. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother.
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