But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. ’ ‘Merci, Gérard,’ Melusine muttered under her breath, adding aloud, ‘And the major, he will also wish that you let me go to see Jacques.
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