’ 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. “Are we cool?” Michelle asked her. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. Anything that drew attention to her must be avoided. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water.
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