For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. I swear it. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. He held her eyes. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side.
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