His room was last at the end of one winding corner. “We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so that the red reflections vanished from her eyes. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet.
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