. " "Very well, sir. I don’t conceal it. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably.
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