As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. ” Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna.
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