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Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “A Socialist of the order of John Ruskin. Who is it?” “Your brother Mike!” Michelle chirruped, sounding uncannily like her mother Diane. ‘I doubt very much whether they are yours at all. ‘I can argue with him very well indeed.
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