‘As to that, I am at this moment altogether displeased with Gérard, you understand,’ Melusine temporised. “You Mr. My, um, my curfew. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. ‘What would you do in Valade’s place?’ ‘You mean, knowing that the girl was here and liable to queer my pitch?’ ‘Precisely.
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