He reached for her chin and lifted it up. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. And then scratched it out and wrote instead, “Gérard”. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off.
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