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He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. " "I expect no commiseration," returned Mrs. ’ 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. ‘You make a game with me, I think.
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