" "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. ". And stony broke. Diving towards it, he tried to press against the rivulet that was seeping from it, hampered mightily by Melusine’s fingers, which were grasping at his other hand. Not all of us, but some of us. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne.
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