She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. “Yeah. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. For a moment she remained silent. ” “But it changes things. ‘Gone!’ he said.
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