She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. Gerald closed the door and released Melusine, and then went to open the shutters on a window that faced the side of the house. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Her fingers opened and the weapon fell from her nerveless grasp. She was my first love.
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