Don’t ask me how. It was late before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and other assistants well armed. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. But Melusine had overcome the weakness, calling the loss but a temporary setback.
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