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It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ‘No, Melusine. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. But when it came to broaching them, it proved to be much more difficult than she had supposed. ‘Champion?’ ‘The lad you saw following her. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff.
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