Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. ’ ‘I spit on your plan,’ Melusine told him furiously.
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