” “Of course,” said Capes, and threw a newly lit cigar into the fire through sheer nervousness. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. " Sir Rowland's brow darkened. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Only the strong survived. Without her, it was lonely. . This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from.
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