" Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. She can't last long. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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