’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably. . Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again. ” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. She repeated this breathlessly.
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