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. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. "Will he live?" asked Ruth. "Your uncle, Sir Rowland?" "It is no idle boasting," replied the other. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again.
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