In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet. Perhaps she was. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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