‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. \" Lucy scanned her memories for a face to match the name Josh Durkin. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. How did you meet him?’ ‘He was wounded and came to the convent for sanctuary,’ Melusine told him, stung by his criticism into revealing more than she had intended. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression.
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