‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside.
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