I can't bear it. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. It was wrenched away from Melusine’s clutching hands. But let the horses be in readiness.
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