‘Bring her to me and we shall see. “Come on in, Michelle. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. ’ Melusine hardly dared believe she had heard him aright. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him.
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