She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters. ” He crossed himself and grinned. ‘Parbleu, the bullet is still inside you,’ Melusine guessed, remembering how the Mother Abbess had diagnosed Leonardo’s suffering when he had first come to the convent. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. “A move of any sort would certainly be fatal. . Not if I read her aright. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself.
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