“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. . There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. ’ Melusine stared. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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