Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. And when I ask you why it is you do so, you have no answer. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion.
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