‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. Oh, you cannot escape from it. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass.
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