She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. . ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately. ’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably.
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