‘Tchah! So you’re the whelp’s girl, are you? Suppose you’ve nothing but that villainous French in your tongue. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. “Just do it. " Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons to drag the prisoner along. Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight.
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