Her heart thudded. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. "Hoddy, wake up!" She jerked his head to and fro until the hair stung. He embraced her like her father once had.
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