Is there anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and found it without fever. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. And there arose too, a background of shouts. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage.
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