She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. ‘No!’ Melusine snapped as he tugged at the thing. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. The flat was apparently empty.
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