It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. It was the beginning of June. She had never let off a pistol in her life. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good.
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