She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. He gripped the window-sill behind him. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. But never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of bread-fruit toward him.
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