He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling.
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