She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. Their flitting hands were always touching. "Give me the link," cried Jonathan.
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