‘I am not French in the least, bête. Water sprung from the corners of the school roof, turning it into a gigantic fountain. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. ’ ‘Ah, so you did come here to find someone,’ Gerald responded eagerly.
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