CHAPTER XIV. ’ Melusine hesitated. I want to be a person by myself, and to pull my own strings. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. “Soon she will return. " "But I'm a poor man. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure. She pulled her hand away quickly. .
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