. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. “She doesn’t know. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism. Wood. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered.
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