Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. Something changed for her. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
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