He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. She entered the last room, his bedroom. She wanted to think. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love so impertinently.
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