Kneebone's door, you begged me to await your return here, assuring me you would not detain me five minutes. ’ ‘Don’t need you to tell me that, Prudence Sindlesham,’ barked the old man, his glance snapping at her briefly, before resuming his study of Melusine, who, to Gerald’s intense admiration, was standing before him, glaring and stiff with defiance. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.
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