It might as well be Melusine herself. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. \"Ever thought about letting me do something with your hair?\" Not needing an answer, Shari got up and whipped out a vented brush from an overstuffed drawer. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. Martha was quite right. Saren Chen was a tall woman, thin and beautiful in a masculine way, Germanic. "But I happen to be an honest man myself.
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