The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. She swallowed hard. His arm fell to his side. " "Why what will she say?" inquired Sheppard. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. Dear me! if there isn't his knock.
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