For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered.
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