Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. "It was silly. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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