He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. "Do better in future. ’ A giggle answered him. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. He declined to come in. Now," he added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, "help me on with them. ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good. It was ten feet long, a relic.
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