. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. What would it be without that safeguard?” Ogilvy pursued his own topic. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name.
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