’ ‘You will not arrest him, because I will shoot you first,’ snapped Melusine. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. It had not tasted good since 1350. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. I did not lay any traps for her. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. Murder had become nothing to her. Only I am not an acquaintance at all.
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