” “You can’t be killed?” He asked. ” “Quite true,” she answered briskly, “and thanks to you I have succeeded. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. We leave this room together.
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