. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Why not kill her here, and leave silently, the way he must have come? Could it be that he had not the intention to kill her? En tout cas, it gave her a chance. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. ‘You will not, pig,’ cried Melusine.
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