Jerking forward, she jabbed backwards. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. " The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. ‘No!’ Melusine snapped as he tugged at the thing. Murder had become nothing to her. White.
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