Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone.
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