Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. They were filthy after the burial. Wood, sharply. I am going to smoke a little here, and then I shall go to the study.
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