And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. Of course, one doesn’t like to talk about things until there are things to talk about. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. She was reasonably certain why.
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