But from the rest—you saved me. Refused admittance, they broke open the door. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on.
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