At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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