Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. 235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful.
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