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Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. Nor my grandfathers both. " CHAPTER IX. Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. Taking up a link, which was blazing beside him, he walked across the room; and touching a spring in the wall, a secret door flew open.
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