’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. It still failed in something. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. ’ 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. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering.
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