“I saw his face in a mirror. He is not in a state of mind to bear it. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Balked, Melusine halted. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. A sinister thought edged in. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. She is very charming, and we all admire her immensely. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. "I do," replied Kneebone. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad.
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