The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. Lucilla shoved Roding out of the way so that she could take hold of Melusine’s hands again. "They shall not harm you, my love!" she exclaimed.
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