" "We found all his pockets empty. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir.
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