Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. ‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald told you all that. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. I suppose I ought to have been a man.
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