Instead of which they walked sharply. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never.
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