Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. Her back stiffened. ’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. ‘Jacques? You have done it? He is alive?’ ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right,’ confirmed the sergeant, putting the petrified Pottiswick—stockstill and staring in horror at the dagger—firmly out of his way and taking his place before Melusine.
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