‘Jacques? You have done it? He is alive?’ ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right,’ confirmed the sergeant, putting the petrified Pottiswick—stockstill and staring in horror at the dagger—firmly out of his way and taking his place before Melusine. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. ‘You have every right to be angry with me. “I have the right to be here. ” “You did,” Anna exclaimed.
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