Death - daughter

“He’s very kind,” said Ysabell, ignoring him, “in a sort of absent-minded way.”

“He’s not exactly your real father, is he?”

“My parents were killed crossing the Great Nef years ago. There was a storm, I think. He found me and brought me here. I don’t know why he did it.”

“Perhaps he felt sorry for you?”

“He never feels anything. I don’t mean that nastily, you understand. It’s just that he’s got nothing to feel with, no whatd’youcallits, no glands. He probably thought sorry for me.”

***

Mort p92