"Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. Before ever I knew you. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. I asked you to go. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. ” 281 282 About the Author Kimberly Steele grew up in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois and currently resides in Naperville, Illinois.
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