Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Cathy rushed out from the kitchen, all smiles, with Lucy behind her. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. 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.
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