’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. "You are not. .
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