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’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. "Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. ‘Quick, Gérard. My family’s Palazzo is not as grand as the Palazzo Vecchio, but it is a wonderful place that you will adore, I promise.
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