It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. He seemed to do ten things before she could think to do one, to leap upon her and take possession. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. “It is true. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned.
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