"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ’ Impatience overtook Melusine’s resolve momentarily. ’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. ‘Hilary was right.
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