’ He took the thing from Melusine’s listless grasp and went on, ‘Now then, what’s all this here argy-bargy with Pottiswick?’ Melusine opened her eyes and straightened up. Perhaps the boys had already faced off and he had missed it, he thought sourly. Miching Mallecho. “Well,” she admitted. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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