‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. ‘She would not tell me. ‘Is she the Frenchie we’ve been watching for then, sir?’ The lady’s furious features turned on this new target. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief.
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