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She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. The odd creak was not to be avoided in an old house such as this. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. 1. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. I’m okay. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. ‘That’s my pet name. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. The next morning came a compact letter from her father.
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