“Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. When he returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister. He bent over to Anna at once. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword.
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