She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. They were silent for a time. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat.
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