F. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done. His initial nervousness had already abated, and it took some valour to allow himself to become embroiled in Melusine’s crazy schemes. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. I'll send for Wu Fang. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged.
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