’ Melusine edged a little away from the portrait. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. ’ ‘But, sister, I—’ ‘Get along!’ Melusine gave Jack a smile as he cast a worried look at her, and nodded dismissal. ‘Don’t be silly. Our mutual safety requires it. You want industry—you want steadiness. It must have cut him. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night.
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