Kneebone's 346 XIV. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress.
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