She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive. ‘You’re not going to kill me this time. ‘But so also it is downstairs. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. Here, put it on your finger. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy.
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