‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion.
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