. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. There stepped forth a tall brown man. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about.
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