I'm not interested in him. " "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. ’ Melusine’s voice petered out. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees.
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