We were going at a mad pace. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. "Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt?" asked the man as he hastened to assist Sir Rowland to dismount. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual.
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