But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Well, you shall know. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast.
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