’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. “Why, I do not know. ’ ‘There is no need for this,’ he ventured mildly, and lifted his finger to show his own pistol was not cocked.
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