’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. It is a big house and there are many rooms in which to hide. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told.
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