” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. “I see the pointer,” she said. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. ’ ‘But you are excessively clever, Jacques,’ cried Melusine, relief flooding her.
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