She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. ‘Got you!’ ‘You!’ Stunned, Melusine moved quickly away from the tell-tale bookshelf. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her.
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