At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; it permeated everything, taste and smell. He appeared to thunder dire happenings if she did not obey him without further ado. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. But I liked to say it. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall.
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