As in a dream, Melusine saw her faithful footman struck, his headlong progress checked. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. " Jack approached her. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob.
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