“Well?” she said. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. Capes smiled cheerfully with his eyes meeting hers.
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