That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon. The simile started a laugh in his throat.
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