He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and emitted an odd guttural sound. ‘Your niece, ma’am. The scrutiny of any strange man provoked a sweaty terror. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. ‘Very.
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