‘Damnation! Too late. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. I hate what I have to do to survive. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. She lived, he noted, very carelessly. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy.
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