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’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. He got up brusquely. *** Gerald vaguely noted that his junior leapt to his feet at sight of his former commander, and that Lucilla sat with her mouth at half-cock, dread in her face. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. ’ Melusine hesitated. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble.
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