“It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. I understand. It's a bad omen to be thrown near that door. Well, it had to happen somewhen. No good at all. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience.
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