He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. An immediate halt took place.
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