“Why?” he asked, suavely. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. Where is Sir Rowland?" "In the library, your ladyship. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it.
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