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She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. “A lady, Dunster. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. "It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. Lost me place, that’s all. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. ’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes.
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