I admit it. He might not condone it, but the feelings that had prompted it augured well for Melusine’s safety. But I don’t want to. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers.
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