’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. . James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day.
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