"Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. You intrigue me. “Close your eyes. You don’t understand, Lucy, they just aren’t like that. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames.
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