‘So now we come to it. And who is the man you are not allowed to marry? Valade, perhaps?’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up. Marvel, who proceeded to the cart, and took his seat upon the coffin. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. Slowly she released the hammer on the pistol, uncocking it, and Gerald became conscious that he had been holding his breath.
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