They must see the prisoner at the hatch. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. Satisfied he was immobilised for the moment, Melusine fell to her knees beside Jack, dragging at his suddenly heavy body to turn it on its back. He hated horizons.
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