A. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. It’s my choice, Lucy. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird.
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