He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. She floundered deep. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. I would speak with you.
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