There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. I am engaged to sing every evening at the ‘Unusual’ music hall. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand.
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