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‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. Manning; secondly, by some measure or other, she meant to go on with her studies, not at the Tredgold Schools but at the Imperial College; and, thirdly, she was, as an immediate and decisive act, a symbol of just exactly where she stood, a declaration of free and adult initiative, going that night to the Fadden Ball. “Bad hemorrhage,” he said.
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