"I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it.
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