Melusine feigned a displeased frown. “It was inevitable,” he declared. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. ‘Ah, grandpére. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. I don't think.
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