” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. ’ Before she could object, Melusine found herself hustled back into the house and dragged willy-nilly towards the library door, where Jack called softly. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. The girl is in it as deeply as he is.
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