A rare moment of amusement lightened Melusine’s mood for a moment. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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