. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ ‘But looking for proof,’ Melusine uttered impatiently. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended.
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