He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. Everything was going to hell. “But I wanted to see you. Give me your hand. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door.
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