’ Melusine jumped. “What the hell is going on here, Officer?” He grumbled. She let out a delighted laugh. They don’t know who did it, actually. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative.
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