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I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. But his grief was of short duration. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow.
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