Kneebone will excuse you. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. The struggle was brief, and Gerald stepped aside, the pistol in his possession, while the girl Melusine stood trembling and glaring. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. It was true. “Ann Veronica,” he said. ‘I said you were sympathique,’ she told him.
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