Chapter Eleven Melusine’s limbs nearly gave way beneath her. Herculis was surrounded by an archipelago, which local chroniclers had claimed was teeming with mermaids. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. She was finally dead, going to Hell. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out.
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