Mrs. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. “Thanks, Cathy. There's my thumb upon it. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. And you tell me that the reason you are doing all this is so that you can marry an Englishman!’ Melusine giggled. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked.
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