She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. He hated himself a little for it. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. ‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him.
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