For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. He looked at her in some embarrassment.
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