There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. "Do you think we are to be disturbed in this way? Make less noise, hussies, or I'll turn you out of the Lodge. You must—you shall be mine. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword.
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