Fate has two methods of procedure—the sudden and the long-drawn-out. It’s no good hiding it any more. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. Observe it—a blue-serge coat. "They shall not harm you, my love!" she exclaimed. But, no.
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