Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. ‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor.
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