" "You trusted too much to your own skill, Jack," rejoined Thames. 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. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. Maggot, dealing him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor.
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