Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. “Delicious!” she murmured. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy.
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