"At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. He caught the smirk. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. Oh the back of her arm she found the faintest down of hair in the world.
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