‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. "There's the exact expression I want. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again.
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