" He patted her hand. “How do you feel?” she asked. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike.
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