They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. ’ ‘But—’ ‘Do not argue with me, but go at once,’ ordered Melusine swiftly, taking a high tone intended to subdue the independent spirit Kimble had lately shown himself to possess. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said.
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