She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. His eyes swept down and Melusine felt the quiver at her lips where he gazed. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. " "No doubt," rejoined Wild, with a sneer; "but don't let all the world know it.
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