While she worked, Melusine worried over the problem of getting Jack home. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. "Perhaps you don't know that this Darrell so contrived matters, that your child should be mistaken for his own; by which means it had a narrow escape from a tight cravat, I can assure you. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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