‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. ” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. But she made no answer.
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