’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. ‘I have told you I will take Jacques. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair.
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