” “You all seem to be trying to pull my leg,” Sir John remarked quietly. "I cannot scare him thence. “It couldn’t be. Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one. The key is in my trousers.
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