I loathe this room. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Besides, he might hear things. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp.
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