Like a petulant child he snapped. Wood trembled. "Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily. Then Melusine jumped back into the fencer’s pose, on guard, the point of the wicked blade directed towards her enemy. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. She recalled him. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it.
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