“Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. ’ For a moment Melusine stared at him as she took in the full horror of his scheme. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. “I would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight.
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