‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting.
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