Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. He had need of all the inexhaustible energy of his character to support him through his toilsome walk over the wet grass, or along the slippery ploughed land. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back.
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