Sebastian snorted, “If it isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!” “Your house is host to the lowest forms of life, those without morals! I will no longer allow my children to live 210 in such a house. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. I hate children. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. “I think,” he said, “that I am right. “I love some one else. He was now almost driven to despair.
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