“You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. “Showtime!” Martin cried. There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further.
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