Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Would you mind drawing them back?” Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. He’s a footman who works for the nuns and has taken up the cudgels on her behalf. Her lips parted, but no words came.
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