It’s true. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. ” They were lingering over their dessert.
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