’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. But sadly, at Lullingstone we are too far off the coast to be of use. Jonathan threw open the street-door.
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