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Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. His eyes swept down and Melusine felt the quiver at her lips where he gazed. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners.
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