1. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love.
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