It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ” “Why?” she asked. “Believe me, I know. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. The struggle was brief, and Gerald stepped aside, the pistol in his possession, while the girl Melusine stood trembling and glaring.
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