Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. "That's it!"—eagerly. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. Above her head was an aura of white fire. " "Done!" cried the old sailor. He drew an awed breath. ‘I’m a soldier, missie.
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