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Don't feel fussed upon my account. The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly.
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