CHAPTER II. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. “And me. ’ ‘I do not think so,’ Melusine agreed, still puzzled. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. I've been thinking about it ever since morning.
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