‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. . ’ ‘Don’t you dare. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. Public school. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. He was always visualizing the Hand whenever he let his gaze rest upon the horizon. It was difficult to get right.
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