’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. "It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with a look that chilled the little damsel's heart;—"my resolution is taken. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard.
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