\"What's that?\" Lucy asked. Diving towards it, he tried to press against the rivulet that was seeping from it, hampered mightily by Melusine’s fingers, which were grasping at his other hand. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. ‘Melusine was making herself mistress of them when we met. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. ‘Aye, that she was. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. Please yourself.
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