” He said admiringly. ‘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. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere.
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