He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it.
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