“Dear John,” she whispered. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald grinned. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still.
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