Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. ‘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. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed.
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