’ She thrust him into the aperture, and pushed the hilt of the sword into his hand. 32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. "See how glad he is!" His irony and displeasure subsided. Melusine, her breath coming in short bursts, heard a sudden flurry of several heavy footsteps and harsh commands exchanged. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket.
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