"The traps!" responded a bystander. He would know the truth then once and for all. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground.
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