Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. ’ 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. “Did you—did you really think that they would take you for a Frenchman?” she exclaimed. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately.
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