’ Kimble gaped at her and Melusine struggled to pull herself out of the shock. ’ ‘You think it would have been better for me to stay as a nun and be killed like the Valades?’ said Melusine, brutally frank. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. I’ve got imagination.
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